


Broken Feet

by overyourcorpse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Post 3a, Stiles centric, Texting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-01-11 07:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overyourcorpse/pseuds/overyourcorpse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Scott was bitten, Stiles thought of his life as a drama show with a hint of horror, romance and comedy. Now he knew that it was only life and that life didn't have a screenwriter, who followed rules. Getting kicked out of his own pack was in the cards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Body

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sigh No More](https://archiveofourown.org/works/966549) by [elementalv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elementalv/pseuds/elementalv). 
  * Inspired by [If I Could Trade Mistakes For Sheep, Count Me Away Before You Sleep](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108382) by [alisaj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alisaj/pseuds/alisaj). 



> hey, so this is a stiles centric fic and I don't know if I'm any good with writing angst, but this story is itching under my fingers... 
> 
>  
> 
> the following information aren't spoiler free so read with caution!  
> dub-con: scott pressures danny into taking the bite and manipulates ethan (as dannys boyfriend) in this direction. scott tries the same with stiles
> 
> stiles/derek: yes, it will happen. but if I estimate it right derek won't make a appearance for half of the fic. talking about/with him - yes. any romance until later - no. just so you're warned ;) 
> 
> kicked out stiles inspired by: If I Could Trade Mistakes For Sheep, Count Me Away Before You Sleep - alisay  
> alpha stiles inspired by: i can't remember, but there was a fic were someone explained to stiles how he is obviously the alpha of their pack, even if he's human (season 1 and maybe 2 compiliant, before scott became an alpha and stuff)  
> bad friend/alpha scott inspired by: Sigh No More - elementalv
> 
> oh and the song is [body](http://tommilsom.bandcamp.com/track/body) by tom milsom

My body fights it in my sleep  
It doesn't seem to be the same as yours

I open my eyes  
And it's all still there

I want to fight it there and then  
I want to put my feet back on the ground  
But I never do

And I don't need nobody  
I shouldn't have nobody  
Now

 

+ 

 

Sometimes, at one point, he thought about it. That they wouldn't want him anymore, that they wouldn't need him anymore. That he was useless. When everything was still new and trying too hard to fit together, he thought there might be no place for him and they'd kick him out, as soon as they'd become a real pack. It didn't happen and he felt good. 

Now he sometimes just thinks, if he was maybe too naive. When Scott was bitten, he thought of his life as a drama show with a hint of horror, romance and comedy. Now he knew that it was only life and that life didn't have a screenwriter, who followed rules. Getting kicked out of his own pack _was_ in the cards.

+

THEN

When the first arrow hits Allison square in the chest, Stiles doesn't know if he screams. He still doesn't know if he screams, when the second one hits her, or the third. The metal is glistening in the semi-darkness and all he knows is, that he stands next to her and everything is frozen except her body and the arrows that keep flying one after one towards her. He can't do anything but stare at her helplessly. 

He stares at her when her eyes widen and she comes back from her Kate nightmare. He stares at her when _she does_ scream in pain and he stares at her when she holds her hands around the shafts of the arrows, trying to stop the blood from rushing out, trying to do something. He stares at her when she tries to take her last breath and fails. 

He watches her dying.

He doesn't know why the other hunters don't start shooting him as soon as they started shooting her and he especially doesn't know how he gets away from the warehouse. All he knows is that the door, he so desperately tried to close, swings wide open again.

"Allison," is the last word out of his mouth before his concentration fades to blackness.

+

"Stiles!"

He had it under control. Before. The door to his darkness was slowly but steady closing, as was Scott's. In fact after his last update Stiles was pretty sure, that Scotts door was completely shut again. Allison's was not. 

Blinking his eyes against the light, he tries to make out were the voice comes from and looks into Lydia's face. She doesn't even try to smile, and in that moment he knows that asking won't provide more of an answer, than he already has. 

"Allison?"

Lydia shakes her head slowly, still not meeting his eyes. He can't fault her for that. 

"How..."

"She... she left a note. That you two were meeting them. "

Stiles fights against the pounding in his head while he nods, rolling on his side, so he faces the other way and the wall. He doesn't want to see her face right now, not when he had gotten so good at reading it the last few months.

The clacking sound of her shoes disappears to out of the room and he feels a bit safer again. 

Stiles doesn't know if he wants to stand up to get water, even if his throat is dry and his lips are chapped, so he leaves his eyes on the wall, just a few inches from his nose. His fingers run over the bumps and he lets a relieved breath out. He's home.

The walls are thin, so he easily picks up the murmur from downstairs and the clack of the front door, when someone leaves. Probably Lydia. The following silence is deafening and comforting at the same time until the heavy footsteps of his dad bring Stiles back to the present.

"Son," the Sheriff stays in the doorframe as if he is unsure of his welcome. "Want some water?"

"Sure dad," he tries to sound assuring, but after one word his voice breaks and even the whisper sounds more crushed than he likes. "Thanks."

The Sheriff crosses the room and tentatively sits down. He hands Stiles the water. 

"Sorry about your voice, they said you screamed a lot."

"No," he grimaces at how small he feels with his voice like this and sips at his water. "Dad, I..."

He wants to find the words, just this once the right thing to say. Frustrated he runs his fingers through greasy hair and sighs.

"I'm sorry."

Stiles tries to catch the reaction from the corner of his eyes and is surprised when his dad looks sad. 

"No Stiles. Don't say you're sorry, not when..." the Sheriff struggles with his words, "you're alive. You, you're alive, you know? So don't say you are sorry, when you are alive."

They are sitting in silence, Stiles idly sipping his water, when the older man speaks up again, his slumped down shoulders falling even further.

"And I know it sounds horrible considering... considering... But are you okay?"

"It's alright dad," the boy smiles at the helplessness of his dad, "I'm fine."

"Okay. Alright, when you say it, it's just, the Martin girl," he looks uncomfortable as he corrects himself, "Lydia, Lydia said you didn't want to talk to her... But if you want, I'm always here. For you."

"Thanks dad. I just... Not right now. Not with them."

"Son," the Sheriff sighs, but then nods, "just tell me when you want to eat something, I'm downstairs."

Stiles watches his dad stand up and leave the room again. He's glad that he's alone for now. He has to answer questions soon enough, he has to talk to his friends, go outside; he has to go to school. His stomach clenches and before he can react to more than sitting up, he leans over the side of his bed and pukes on the floor. 

The glass still stands half full on his bedside table, but he doesn't drink any to clear his mouth. Instead he crawls deeper into the sheets and tries not to picture Allison in the classroom. Or at lunch, or at lacrosse, or... He tugs them up until they cover his eyes. Maybe the darkness can help him forget maybe he can sleep. Maybe he dreams and has a nightmare. Maybe this all is just a nightmare. 

Stiles doesn't fall asleep.

+

There is something dripping from her face. It's red and Stiles thinks it might be blood. He wants to yell to her to watch out, to let him help her, but she's laughing. Not at him, he notices. 

They are in the McCall kitchen and Scott is trying to feed her some toast with marmalade as he has his eyes closed. He is laughing too. 

"Scott, please you don't even try," Allison giggles at the grinning Scott, who makes no visible effort of getting the marmalade in his girlfriend's mouth and not her face.

"Scott, how can you miss my mouth, I'm talking! There is noise coming from it, you know. It can't be _that_ hard!"

Stiles turn their loud chatter out and just watches them laughing and being happy. Being alive. He traces every line of the girls face, memorizing her dimples and the mischief in her eyes. The gentleness she has in her hands as she guides Scott's and the wave of her dark hair, when she throws her head back in laughter. He never understood just how beautiful she is. 

A graceful warrior and a softhearted teenager. 

He doesn't understand why his throat closes up and he feels a twinge in his heart while he watches their moment, he hasn't been jealous for ages. But suddenly there is a shift in the air and is thick with _something_. It feels heavy and nauseating, as if this _something_ was crawling to the surface from his buried place deep in the darkness. 

Stiles knows it before he sees it and pulls his feet back, closes his eyes, but his body is not responding to him. He watches again as the tears fall to her face and pile up in the corner of her mouth. As the red from the marmalade transforms to the red of blood. He can't close his eyes, as the image of Scott's face flickers in front of him, an ugly sneer overshadowed by his red-rimmed eyes.

Stiles can't close his eyes so he parts them even wider. 

When he awakes, he doesn't even scream anymore.


	2. Nightmares Part 1

black shadows  
haunting the city  
haunting ev'ry dream

like a layer of dust  
on shabby furniture  
like thick fog  
on deserted streets

coats the darkness  
our godforsaken souls

 

+

 

It is relieving to see his room in complete darkness, when he hauls his feet out of the covers and puts them down beside his bed. 

No sound carries trough the house and once again he is reminded why it's called the hour of the wolf - the haunting time between midnight and dawn, when the silence chokes you and nightmares drown you, he thinks. It's poetic and has kind of the same mystic as werewolves.

He had read once, that ghosts and demons have power over the hour of the wolf and found the thought intoxicating. Now he met werewolves and banshees, kanimas and their masters, dark druids and the undead, and he has no desire to know what exactly reigns over the night. Even less does he want to meet it.

All he cares about is the fact that others are plagued by their anxieties at this time, while he calms down and feels free of them. The dark and the quiet is, where he can breathe and not feel possessed by other deities.

One would probably call it

"Awaken," Stiles whispers to the empty room in front of him, enjoying the peace of no one staring at him with sad eyes. No one waiting for him to wake up to say a few more comforting words.

He trains his eyes on the small part under his door, where the floor light shines through. 

Stiles knows, that his father sits downstairs at their kitchen table and his throat closes with guilt, because he also knows that the man probably only turned a dim light on, so that Stiles wouldn't see the hidden bottle underneath the table, if he finally decided to leave his bed and join him. 

His dad will wait the whole night for him, like he did so many times before, but Stiles just can't bring his feet to move, not having any willpower left.

He paints a picture in his head, where he wears a smile on his face that isn't forced. He imagines how he hugs his father tight and tells him again and again how he is fine. He wouldn't let go of him, until he was relaxed and smiled back. He imagines how they both sit next to each other in silence, until the dawn would come. Stiles slowly opens his eyes again and puts his feet back in his bed, trying to forget the pictures and just lay still in his bed.

He feels sick when he can't and starts counting his fingers instead. Halfway through he gets them mixed up and wonders if he's even awake. 

Maybe he was dreaming all along.

+

The next time his mind flickers awake, he hears someone breathing in his room and his eyes open before he can debate over it with himself. It is Scott, standing in front of the wall with all the pictures Stiles had hung up, tracing the edge of one he took with Allison. 

She showed him how to use some of her weapons a few weeks after the whole 'incident' with the Nemeton. Stiles remembers how Allison showed up less and less when they met up as a pack, until Lydia told him that she felt like she wasn't a true part of the pack, because she was a hunter and no longer Scott's girlfriend. Stiles took matters in his own hand and went to her after school, demanding to be taught her "Awesome-Skills". The next time they run an omega out of the town, she stayed for the celebration afterwards and shared a pizza with him and Isaac on Scott's couch.

The picture shows both of them laughing and taking a selfie in front of the target, after Stiles finally shot his first arrow in on of the colored circles.

"I just got her back, Stiles," Scott's voice sounds small and wounded, like he was crying a few minutes ago, "I just got her back and I can't loose her. Not again."

When he half turns to the bed, Stiles catches his eyes. They look sad. But what really makes his stomach turn is the twisted grimace on his friends face. It reminds him of the sneer in his dream, the ugly and horrible disgust on Scott's face, when he looked at Stiles as if he betrayed him.

The thought gets his tongue heavy and he can't bring himself to say anything back. He knows Scott wouldn't want to hear a 'sorry' from him and he feels at loss because nothing they ever said to each other would be fitting for this situation. Stiles feels like years of their friendship are worthless now, because he can't return a single word, Scott ever said to him.

He stays silent, as Scott exists his room for the first time ever through the window.

He wonders, just how many of the pack had visited his room, while he was asleep and feels restless again. Kicking himself out of the bed he nervously shifts through his room and touches every object, as if to assure him that nothing was moved. He doesn't find a note or any other evidence and comes finally to a stop, standing in the middle of his room and breathing hard.

The glass of water still stands on his bedside table, so he takes it and slowly walks towards the stairs. 

It's in the early morning hours, when he steps into the kitchen and catches his father filling up a cup of coffee, so Stiles puts his water on the table, to make his presence known. His father swirls around, splashing his coffee over his pants. 

"Stiles!"

He can hear the surprise in his father's voice, so he just shrugs and tries a tired grin. 

"Don't sound so surprised. I told you I was fine, I just needed some sleep. Man, I don't know what happened to me, but it sure as hell was tiring."

The sheriff shoots him an unbelieving look, so Stiles pushes his grin a bit wider.

"Stiles, you don't need to be fine. You don't need to act, as if nothing happened. Allison was your friend, and loosing someone is"

He gets interrupted from Stiles before he is able to continue. 

"Great, you made coffee! What's for breakfast? It's Saturday and you don't need to work, we should have brunch. Brunch is good, yeah, brunch it is!"

The boy opens the fridge and gets some eggs, but still doesn't turn around again, so he misses the sad look on his fathers face and the slow shaking of his head. He knows, if he fronts long enough his father will drop it, so he decides to just power through. 

He spares no thought to the disappointment his father surely feels. At least he tries to, but the words his mom said to him in her last days echo in his head. 

"Don't be sad."

When she was gone, he tried, because she had asked him to, but now everything feels useless. Even trying.

If he tried, everyone would know he failed. Faking feels so much easier - someday in the future all this is just a story, like everything before. When that time comes, Stiles swears to himself, he'll try.

+

Scott roars, when Aiden tries to claw at the omega they have surrounded, and everyone flinches. The whole pack glares at him and Isaac murmurs some curse words. Sometimes Scott still has to get the hang of when to use his alpha roar, and when it's just not appropriate. 

Still, Aiden backs away, and everyone relaxes again, as much as you can relax while having a dispute with an omega, which tried to attack a jogging deputy. 

"We won't kill him," Scott says with the special voice he has reserved for all his 'No-Killing' talks. "We don't just hunt people down, even if they might deserve it."

He shifts his attention back to the werewolf in front of them and pins him with his red eyes. 

"Allison - knee!"

It's not even a second later and an arrow flies through the air, and the omega is on his knees, scrambling to get the poisoned metal out. 

Scott nods in thanks to Allison and stand tall and towering over the not fully human man. 

"Never come back!" He declares with an icy voice, "we will let you leave, but don't come back and don't hurt another one under our protection! We don't kill, but sometimes even we have no other choice. So don't take any chances, because this is your last."

It feels like victory, when the omega hurries away.


	3. Nightmares Part 2

 

He tells his father, that he doesn't want to be disturbed on Sunday, so he can try to catch up with his homework. And even though the Sheriff looks worried and every ounce like he wants to argue, he doesn't let Lydia go upstairs later that afternoon, and turns her away after some tea.

Stiles is glad, when he hears the click of the door, and can pick up his pen again. He had dropped it, because his hand just wouldn't stop tensing and trembling, but even now with his calmer mind and his fingers in control, he just stares blankly at his unsolved homework and the unmarked papers in front of him.

They scare him and he can't bring himself to read one single assignment. He doesn't know, what he would do without Scott, if he physically couldn't read the questions. He feels helpless and raw without Scott, without Allison, without Lydia. 

The dark lines around his heart start to move again and he knows, he won't be able to sleep tonight, when they start moving with the rhythm of his heartbeat. Normally Stiles would revel in the darkness; accept it as part of himself and allow the hateful thoughts inside his head. Normally he would stay in his room for a few hours, and not be himself. Not Stiles, but something darker.

He found out early on, that it would be easier than the constant fighting, and each time the darkness came back, it was weaker and weaker. He felt like winning, every time he opened his door again after an episode.

This day it is different, and Stiles knows it immediately.

When Allison died, he couldn't fight, so he fights now. He trashes and curses, ignores the banging on the door, and just tries to separate his body from the darkness of the Nemeton. Stiles knows, that it is pointless, but just this once he wants to go down trying.

+

The Monday is weird. His dad doesn't want him to go to school again so soon, but Stiles mentions that the whole pack will probably be there, so the Sheriff caves. Stiles knows, that his fathers hopes he would talk to his friends if he meets them at school, but his own plans regarding the day are a bit different.

He just wants to sit in his classes and let all the voices sweep over him. He wants to drown in the sounds around him, so he won't hear his own thoughts. He just wants to look like a teenager, like he's fine.

When he finally walks into the school corridor, after an uncomfortably silent drive with his father, Isaac already awaits him at his locker. The boy looks tired, and him being a werewolf is probably the only reason he doesn't look dead on his feet. Stiles feels envious, as he comes to a stop next to him, and tries to avoid his stare.

They neither talk nor move, until Isaac's gaze flickers to Kira, who drags herself slowly down the hallway, and he squares his shoulders and stands straighter.

"Have you seen Scott?" Isaac asks and Stiles can hear the anxiety in his voice, "He went out Friday night and never came back."

"No, haven't seen him," Stiles mumbles and turns away to go to his math class.

"Are you sure? His scent lingered at your house."

"Yeah, I'm sure," he lies again, but remembers that he doesn't have to, "he's not at mine. I don't know anything."

Stiles takes some books out of his locker and flings them in his backpack to his unfinished homework. He waits a beat, but then just turns around and tries to disappear in the chattering crowd and as soon as he's out of Isaac's sight, he ducks into own of the more empty corridors. Closing his eyes, he slides down the wall and lets an unsteady breath out. 

When his phone tells him it's time for English, he gets up again and rushes to the classroom. He does his best to slip in unnoticed and not make eye contact with anyone he knows, as he walks to the back of the room.

Stiles knows, that probably half of the class is staring at him. Everyone having heard the story of the Sheriff's son standing next to Allison Argent, as some weird-ass hunters on the edge of the preserve shot her. 

Between students it was gossip, even more because best friend and boyfriend of the both, Scott McCall, wasn't anywhere in sight. Parents declared it as tragedy, the poor girl who died because of some mountain lion fanatics. And then there were those, who took notice. Those who remembered just too well, that not even six months ago there were too many deaths to count and that maybe this weird town curse started again. 

They aren't wrong, Stiles thinks, maybe the curse would continue now, maybe the Nemeton had enough of foreplay and wants its climax now. Maybe they just weren't worth anything to the universe. Nobody cares probably. Not anymore.

Stiles avoids anyone from his pack for the rest of the day, as he hurries from class to class. He nearly runs into Danny at lunchtime, when he tries to find a place for himself, but Danny is not a wolf and he doesn't notice the black hoodie that hides behind an open door. Stiles is suddenly glad, that the guy never asked for the bite. He's also glad that Lydia apparently gives him time, or needs the time for herself, when he sees her walking down the hall with Kira and Aiden.

He feels bad, because he shuts them out, although they suffer as much as him, especially after he notices that Lydia isn't even touching Aiden and hasn't her usually slightly ruffled hair from making-out in some closet. He still continues ignoring and dodging everyone until after school, and he finally starts walking home, hugging his hoodie closer to his body, when he feels the January air.

The silence of the streets is uncomfortable and choking and forces Stiles to drown in memories.

Mental images of a happy pack, that started out broken but never stopped fighting for more. A pack that took people in, who were lost and didn't know anything about themselves, like Kira. A pack that gave people a connection, who didn't want a pack but still were afraid of being alone like Parrish. A pack that gave the deputy a chance, even though Incubus doesn't scream 'I won't hurt anybody'. A pack that changed people like the evil twins and gave them a tentative second chance. 

A pack that lost so much, but still wasn't afraid of growing.

That was the pack of Stiles' memories, but he still asks himself if they maybe lost too much this time.

+

The rest of the school week just flows right by Stiles. He doesn't try too hard anymore, to avoid everybody and even makes a bit Smalltalk with his friends when lunchtime comes. His dad allowed him to take the jeep to school again, even though he had to tell some lies about him and the pack being together the whole time – Stiles feels nothing about it. 

Scott is still missing.

The only thing that is close to working is his relationship to Lydia. Since Tuesday they started to meet in the library and do their homework. Sometimes in silence and sometimes in hushed whispers about the banal things happening in school or the town, but they never talk about Allison or Scott. They also never speak one single word about the pack or their own feelings.

Friday isn't any different until Lydia suddenly lays her pen down and pushes the paper away from her. She sighs, but Stiles just waits until she is ready to talk. Five minutes later she sighs again and curls her hair around her pinkie. 

"Aiden asked today to be together. Like together together..."

"And?" He draws his eyebrows in a frown, but doesn't say any more. 

"I hit him," Lydia laughs but it doesn't sound happy. "I hit him and asked how he could say something like that, not even a week after my best friend was killed."

They fall into silence again and just sit next to each other.

"Sex. That's all it was." She whispers into her own hair and Stiles thinks, that he maybe sees for the first time how broken she really is right now. "We were having Sex, we weren't even 'kind of dating' or stuff like that. And instead of just being there for his pack, he's a fucking idiot."

Stiles thinks about making a joke, but he doesn't feel like laughing and he doesn't think Lydia would appreciate jokes right now. So he rubs her shoulder and says, "I'm sorry."

 

It's like all their energy just left their bodies, so they pack their stuff and slowly walk to the parking lot. For a few seconds Stiles is surprised by how settled he seems in his body, how he stopped jiggling and moving unnecessarily, but then he remembers that it's probably just the sadness settled in his bones. 

He stops with Lydia in front of her car and opens his mouth. She seems to sense, he wants to say something and returns his earlier favor of waiting. This time the words come faster.

"I'm sorry, Lydia. About Allison."

When she is surprised, she doesn't show it, and Stiles is endlessly thankful for that.

"Stiles, it's not your fault." She tries to shape a smile for him and it's the first one in the whole week that feels a bit like a real one. He can't bring himself to smile back.

"Not everybody sees it like that..."

They stare at each other at his confession and Lydia's gaze sharpens suddenly. 

"Who?" She asks.

"Nobody, nothing!" Stiles counters a bit too fast. "Nobody said anything, I just... Everything is alright, okay? See you Monday?"

He doesn't await her response as he nearly sprints to his own car and drives home without turning back. He thinks he hears her calling after him, but he doesn't stop and he doesn't answer.

 

Regardless of his earlier avoidance, he answers his phone when Lydia calls him in the middle of the night. 

"Tell me."

She doesn't sound tired and if he thinks about it, she hadn't sounded so much like herself in the whole week. He sighs, because he knows he can't say no to this Lydia. He can't bring himself to be selfish, when she is not.

"Scott came by. And then he disappeared. For now a week."

The phone is silent for a minute.

"Maybe he just wanted to be with you... To be not alone." She went quiet again and asked softly, "What did he say?"

"That he can't lose her... But Lydia, he had that face. I never saw it on him before and it was horrible. It was like I destroyed his whole world. And I couldn't say a word."

"Stiles!" Suddenly she sounds loud in his ear. "Listen, it was not your fault."

"You don't even know what–"

" _It was not your fault,_ " she repeats. 

This time Stiles doesn't talk back and they fall into silence again. It's nearly an hour later in companionable quiet, when Lydia yawns softly and he starts smiling. 

"You should sleep, Lyds, I'm okay."

It's only after he hung up, that he notices how much more true the words this time are. 

He plays with his phone and thumbs through his contacts, when he stumbles over Derek's name. He thinks, Derek probably doesn't know about Allison and considers texting him the news, but he deletes draft after draft until he has a simple text, that says nothing about Allison. Stiles supposes it's alright, because they haven't talked since New Year's and he shouldn't spring the death of somebody onto anybody just like that, least of all Derek.

He sends his text and only waits for a response, because he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.

Stiles [04:51 am]  
There is no 'dead' in 'team'

Derek [05:35 am]  
What?

Stiles [05:41 am]  
it's supposed to be funny and ironic. 

Stiles [05:42 am]  
mostly ironic

+

There are kitschy Christmas lights attached to the tree, even though Lydia had forbidden every ornament not personally approved of her and nobody dared to cross her on a good day. Stiles thinks that the flashing lights were probably Allison's idea, as she is the only one Lydia has an "official" soft spot for.

He stands next to the tree and watches the rest of the pack slowly arriving; one after one they trudge into Lydia's living room and flop onto the couch or the floor. There is loud yelling and shrieking when Kira exits the kitchen with a plate full of fresh cookies, and suddenly half of the pack hangs onto her, begging for a treat. Isaac is the only one of the wolfs, who stays seated and has his typical smirking and uninterested look on his face, even though everyone in the room knows that he's fronting, seeing as he hung out the whole afternoon with Kira in the kitchen, tasting the dough every other minute.

Stiles tucks on Scott's arm, after his best friend already gobbled down his fifth cookie with a low whine.

"Scott, where's Allison? Didn't she come with you?"

Scott just throws him a confused look as he reaches for another two cookies and laughs when Ethan scowls, just because Danny hands Isaac some peanut butter cookies and Isaac shows Danny one of his genuine smiles.

"Hm? What did you say?" He sounds distracted, like he normally just does when talking to or about Allison.

"Allison, where is Allison?"

This time he fully turns around to Stiles, but his face looks if possible even more clueless and his puppy-dog eyes become slightly concerned. 

"Who is Allison? Stiles are you okay?" Scott leans in a bit and starts to whisper soothingly. "Look, I know this is the first time the whole new pack is together like this, it's alright if you're a bit nervous!"

He smiles, pats him on the back and stalks with a loud "Parrish!" across the room. 

Stiles feels dumbfounded.

 

He sits down next to Lydia when they all start exchanging gifts. He looks down to the books she holds in her hands, and tries to hide his trembling hands. 

"Hey Lyds, lovely decorations, who did them?"

He holds his breath, but Lydia just rolls her eyes and takes the next wrapped gift from her pile. Stiles remembers choosing the paper and wrapping it. 

"Mom." She let's out an exasperated sigh. "It's _tacky..._ "

"Not Allison?"

She frowns at him, as she slips on the bracelet.

"Who's Allison?"

Stiles freezes and every thought in his head stops, before they whirl rapidly from one end to another. He looks from Lydia to the rest of his pack, watches every face, how happy they all look. How much they smile and don't ever seem to stop. It vexes him, how unnatural all those beams are, but he can't pinpoint why. 

He looks back to the Christmas tree and stares at the blinking lights. He hears the laughter of everyone in the background and feels a bit hypnotized by the bright and fast changing colors. They flash his world in green, blue, red, yellow, red, red, red... Suddenly everything is red and his friends don't laugh anymore, but stare at him. 

He blinks and tries to rub out the red, but the red doesn't disappear. His breaths come shorter and shorter until he falls to his knees, crying. 

 

When Stiles awakes he doesn't scream, and even his tears are not real. Still, his skin is soaked when he sticks a hand down his wet shirt, so he changes out of it and throws it to the pile of clothing with a sigh. 

He lays down again, but his eyes are wide open and his brain won't stop rotating. He doesn't want to think about anything so he fiddles with his phone and starts one of the mindless games. It doesn't make him tired, but it kills some more hours. 

It seems, like killing hours is all he does nowadays – he hadn't even left his room yesterday and took full advantage of his dad's double shift to spend his entire Saturday in front of his laptop. 

Everything feels just like waiting, even more so because Scott's still not back.

Stiles closes the game and checks his messages, though he knows exactly that he doesn't have a new one. He re-reads the one Derek had sent him earlier that day.

Derek [11:54 am]  
Haven't heard from you since new years...everything still fine /w you guys?

He thought about replying the whole day, but just didn't know how. Now, in this nightly hour, he doesn't care anymore how he'd sound.

Stiles [02:21 am]  
yeah

Stiles [02:27 am]  
how did you get through the thing with erica and boyd

Stiles doesn't think Derek will answer him, so he isn't too disappointed when fifteen minutes later there is still no new message. Ten more minutes later, he gives up his hopes for at least a dodging remark. He tells himself he isn't disappointed at all. Derek is probably sleeping anyway.

He still pouts when his phone beeps, and he flails and scrambles for it again.

Derek [03:01 am]  
Shit!

Derek [03:04 am]  
Stiles, what happened?!

Stiles [03:06 am]  
we lost a limb

His phone starts ringing, but he declines the call. 

Stiles [03:12 am]  
I dont really wanna talk about it...

Derek [03:15 am]  
Alright. Just, I'm here for you, okay? For whatever and whenever.

Stiles [03:18 am]  
I just dont know what to do to get through the night. every night

Derek [03:20 am]  
I'm here. Every night.

Derek [03:21 am]  
I don't sleep much.

Stiles [03:33 am]  
thanks

Stiles doesn't feel better, he thinks, not even a little bit lighter around his heart, but for the first time there may be hope that all of this is just a tunnel. Just a long, never-ending, dark tunnel. He had tunnels before, for god's sake, they all had tunnels and not even every one had had a light at the end. But they still always came out of it...sometimes more and sometimes less on top.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm still not over the fact that they stab-killed Allison... I mean, yeah, I shot her in this fic, but I didn't want that to happen in REALITY, YOU FUCKERS!!)  
> (And as many washing machines as you can carry, if you got the reference)  
> (Edit: I re-read the chapter and my note about washing machines and references... And I didn't get my reference, I feel so dumb)  
> (Edit: I got it now.....)


End file.
